


Episode: Birth (Season 1 Episode 11)

by LLawliet11cara



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLawliet11cara/pseuds/LLawliet11cara
Summary: When Tate goes to retrieve the ring from Patrick, things go sideways.





	Episode: Birth (Season 1 Episode 11)

**Author's Note:**

> Quick disclaimer, I do not own American Horror Story, or any of the characters!
> 
> That being said, a lot of the lines are direct quotes, but if you've come to read this please please do not hate on this fic, I did my very best, and it's not perfect, okay? Thanks for reading.  
> ~Cara

Tate slowly opened the door to what was going to be the nursery, upon seeing Patrick, he walked in. “How does it work?” He stared at the painted wall, “Will the kid call you both Daddy, or is one of you the mom?” Tate asked as he and Patrick made eye contact. Slowly, Patrick stood from his crouched position. “I'm just messing with you.” Tate said with raised hands. Tate dropped his hands, “Seriously, though, are you ready for all this?” He circled the air with his hand, “I mean, you never struck me as the diapers and midnight feedings type.” Tate said without breaking eye contact.  
Patrick’s reply was almost instant, “Maybe you should have taken a few minutes to get to know me before you stuck a fireplace poker up my ass.” He said as he turned back around and crouched.  
Tate had that one coming and he knew it. “Fair enough.” He breathed out. “Look.” Tate swallowed lightly. The ring was all that mattered. And Tate intended to get it. “We're all going to be here for a long time so maybe we can figure out a way to let bygones be bygones and, you know cohabitate.” He said trying to sound logical.  
“I'm dead because of you!” Patrick snapped furiously.  
“Well, there's got to be something I could offer you.” Tate said spontaneously. He cautiously approached the crib. He carefully gabbed the crib and stroked it, “I mean, just because we're dead doesn't mean we don't have wants.” Tate decided to take a different approach. “Desires.” He said with a small smile. By now, he had caught Patrick’s attention. Tate abandoned the crib and took several steps towards Patrick while saying, “Marriage looks hard.” He shook his head, “Especially to that guy.” Patrick watched as Tate stepped closer. Tate’s face scrunched, “Always on you all the time.” His voice lowered. “And never in the ways you want.. right?” He asked seductively. By now Tate was mere inches from Patrick, who was still crouching. Patrick’s gaze seemed to be stuck on the Tate’s zipper. “It must suck,” He emphasized on the word suck. “to have to wait till Halloween every year to get a little strange.” Patrick slowly stood up. He looked down at Tate. Tate searched Patrick’s eyes, waiting for him to make a move.  
Patrick suddenly head butted the teenager. Tate fell back against the wall.  
“I can't kill you, but I can make you suffer.”Patrick said aggressively. He began punching Tate in the face repeatedly. It wasn’t until Tate’s face was covered in blood that he realized he had a hard on.  
Patrick swallowed hard, he looked back at Tate, Tate blinked a few times to keep conscious. Patrick grabbed Tate by his shirt and turned him to face the wall.  
“What are you doing?” Tate managed to say.  
“It’s not supposed to be like this..” Patrick said as he rapidly unzipped his jeans. “I’m not supposed to be here!” He yelled into Tate’s ear.  
Tate felt his jeans being torn down, “Wait, what are you-!”  
Patrick grabbed a fist full of Tate’s hair and slammed his face into the wall, effectively shutting him up.  
“I was gonna get out!” His voice cracked. Patrick aligned himself at Tate’s entrance.  
Tate’s eyes widened as he felt Patrick thrust into him. Patrick was motionless as he waited for Tate’s body to adjust. “I fell in love.” He murmured. He began to thrust in and out. Tate’s mouth opened and formed an ‘O’ shape, but the only thing that came out was a small cry of pain. “God help me.” He muttered as began to drill Tate’s ass repeatedly. Tate’s knuckles were white from gripping his fists too tightly. “I was gonna get out and be with him!” Patrick half sobbed. “And then you killed me!” He cried. “And now I'm stuck here with him!” Tate glanced at Patrick’s hand, the ring. Tate hastily grabbed at Patrick’s hand, and after short struggle he managed to get it off his hand. He put the ring in his mouth and then fought Patrick off him.  
When Tate managed to get Patrick off him, he pulled his jeans up and glanced up, his face paled. There at the doorway was a livid Chad.  
“What the hell is this?” He demanded. Tate tried to pass him, but Chad was persistent. “Is that why you killed us?” He asked. “Because you’re ashamed of your sexuality?” He scoffed. Tate attempted to pass him. “Oh no. You’re not going anywhere.”  
Tate closed his eyes, “Go away.” He said sharply, when he opened his eyes Chad and Patrick were gone. Tate spit the ring out of his mouth and into his hand. He wiped away a tear, when had he started crying? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. After cleaning himself up, Tate went to Violet’s room. She wasn’t there. Tate slumped down onto the floor and laid down on his back, he pushed back the memory. He had the ring, that’s what mattered. He tossed it into the air.  
The door slowly opened, revealing Violet. Tate smiled upon seeing her, “What’d you get?” He asked curiously.  
Violet raised his watch up, “He took it off to paint. Why does a ghost need a watch?” She asked confused.  
“Violet!” It was Ben. Tate rushed up off the ground. Violet motioned for Tate to hide. Tate closed his eyes, when he opened them, he was in the basement. He sighed sadly, later Violet would need the ring, but for now, he could be alone with his thoughts. Of course, his thoughts were anything but fun. Had he not already been dead, he probably would have killed himself. All was silent, until heard her. Vivien screamed, she was in pain. Part of Tate knew that it was his fault and felt remorseful. The other part of him didn’t seem to care.  
After a long period of hearing her scream, Violet appeared, “The ring, do you have it? She’s giving birth, I need it now!” She exclaimed.  
Tate fumbled to get it out of his pocket, “Here.” He handed it to her.  
Violet snatched it from his hand, “Thanks.” She smiled, then she turned and ran to cellar.  
Tate looked down, he didn’t want to exist anymore.

“What exactly do you think you're doing, young lady?” Violet turned to see Chad, “Is that my $12,000 watch that you're putting into the furnace?” He asked with rising anger.  
Violet was shocked at first, but she quickly regained composure. “Croatoan.” She said attempting to banish him. When he didn’t disappear like she had expected, she repeated the word, “Croatoan! Croatoan!” She yelled.  
Finally, Chad seemed to be affected. He dropped the pieces from the crib and made an odd gurgling sound, his body shook violently, and then he began to laugh, “Just kidding.” He said snidely, he groaned as he picked up a piece of the crib, “So where'd you get that one?” He asked pointing at her with the red crib piece. “That Press-On Nail psychic who was here earlier? I mean, really? The Roanoke spell?” He looked at her pathetically, “Please, tell me you'll be slitting the throat of a chicken next because I've always found that very dramatic.” He said with a slight nod. “I also quite enjoy the burning of the sage to rid the house of spirits.” He smiled sarcastically.  
“It didn't work.” Violet said dumbfounded.  
Chad rolled his eyes, “Of course it didn't work. It's bullshit. It's all bullshit.” He stretched out the word all. “People make up these spells and chants in order to feel like they're in control.” Chad said in a matter of fact tone. “Well, guess what?” He paused. “They're not.” He murmured almost sadly. “Never have been.” He said finally breaking eye contact. He snapped the piece of the crib against his knee and tossed it into the furnace.  
Violet watched, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What are you doing?” She questioned him.  
“My own bullshit ritual.” He turned away to grab more pieces from the crib, “There's not gonna be any nursery.” He said picking up another piece. Chad sighed as he walked back to the furnace, “We're not gonna be parents.” He broke the piece against his knee. “Your mother's babies are safe.” He tilted his head and glanced at her, “From us, at least.” It was a warning. Chad stared at Violet sadly, “I'm doomed to spend eternity with a man who doesn't love me.” His tone changed, only slightly. “Of course, it could be worse.” Chad looked at her with a small smile, “Your man does love you..” He paused for a brief second, adding to the drama. “but he'll always be a monster.”  
“You're wrong.” Violet countered. “Tate's changed.” She defended him. “He doesn't even remember what he did.” Her tone was almost snarky.  
“Oh.” Chad looked her in the eyes, “When did he change?” He asked with that small smile playing on his lips, “When he murdered me?” Chad challenged, “When he murdered my boyfriend?” He added rudely. Vivien’s scream could be heard all throughout the house. “Or did he change… when he raped your mother?”  
Violet tilted her head slightly, “What?” She asked in disbelief. “No, that's a lie.” She denied it.  
“I wasn’t finished.” Chad said. He continued with, “Or did he change, when he slept with my boyfriend?”  
Violet looked at him with skepticism, slowly she shook her head, “You’re lying.”  
“Am I?” Vivien screamed again. “I think you're about to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So you made it to the end, awesome. Feel free to comment your opinion, but don't be harsh about it please, okay thanks.  
> ~Cara


End file.
